


Mummy Was Right

by Charlie_Harrison1806



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fem!mycroft, Greek Mythology - Freeform, He is trying to be better, M/M, Magic, Wattpad Open Novella Contest, mycroft is an asshole, mystrade, only because he's now a chick, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-03 12:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Harrison1806/pseuds/Charlie_Harrison1806
Summary: Inside Mycroft's office, the eldest Holmes brother was starting to feel a little under the weather despite having felt fine and having taken all precautions to avoid illness. Mycroft sighed heavily and drank his cup of tea while packing all of the paperwork that he needed to have done by tomorrow morning, deciding to take the cake with him and eat it at his home in Mayfair.No one could have guessed tomorrow's events. Not even Mycroft Holmes.





	1. Prologue

"Do not waste your time in returning," Mycroft spoke out with a bored tone before resuming his paperwork while the now ex-employee stands in front of his desk with shock written all over their face.

"But...Why? Sir, why are you firing me?" The ex-employees voice breaks and quivers with every word.

"That is not your concern now leave before I call security to escort you off of the premises," Mycroft snapped coldly causing the person to stumble backwards, their face contorting with emotions as Mycroft resumed his peaceful state of mind.

"You will regret this Mycroft Holmes. You have no understanding of people and I hope you pay for it," The person seethed before storming out of Mycroft's office with the door slamming in frustration of the arguments and fights that break out in the office of the oldest Holmes.

"Come in," A knock on the old door was followed by Anthea walking into the room with a cup of tea and a piece of choc peppermint cake.

"It sounded like you needed a cup of tea, Sir. Is there anything else you need before I leave?" Anthea asked placing the small tray in front of Mycroft and on the door side of the paperwork so as to not damage it with any dribbles of tea or crumbs of cake.

"No thank you, Anthea. That will be all," Mycroft dismissed coldly, with Anthea nodding her head and leaving the room slightly quicker than she had entered. Once on the other side of the door, Anthea released a breath that she had been holding after Mycroft's unusual reaction to her. Anthea shook her head not believing that it was because of the last person to have been in Mycroft's office, grabbing her bags before leaving the room.

Inside Mycroft's office, however, the eldest Holmes brother was starting to feel a little under the weather despite having felt fine and having taken all precautions to avoid illness. Mycroft sighed heavily and drank his cup of tea while packing all of the paperwork that he needed to have done by tomorrow morning, deciding to take the cake with him and eat it at his home in Mayfair.

The long drive home was tolerable with the thought of a glass of scotch with his cake before a warm shower and a soft bed covered with Egyptian silk. The driver said nothing the whole drive, not even when Mycroft dismissed the driver once the car had arrived at Mycroft's lavish house. The white marble stairs and the mahogany door greeted the British Government before he walked inside and up the dark oak stairs to his study.

An intense feeling in his stomach and throat changed Mycroft's mind about doing this paperwork tonight. He would complete it in the morning after some well needed sleep. A set of fine silk pyjamas waited on the immaculately made bed with a pair of soft, woollen slippers at the edge of the bed. No one could have guessed tomorrow's events. Not even Mycroft Holmes.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirrors are a great thing, unless you're Mycroft...

I awoke to a throbbing in my head and light flooding the large room through the heavy velvet curtains. The alarm began to yell its hatred and with a small sigh stops, my hand gracing over the sleep button. I glanced at the time after having turned the alarm off, until it awakens tomorrow to continue its job, and see that I still had a little over two hours before I had to be at work. Flicking the sheet and duvet off of my body, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and into my slippers before going downstairs for a morning coffee.

Something felt off today. As though something was wrong and yet I couldn't put my finger on what it was, so I brushed it off as simple mental frustration and obvious exhaustion while brewing a cup of coffee, hoping that it would have some effect on my brain to quench the questionable thoughts rushing through it. The burning coffee was soothing the thoughts as I drank the caffeine-filled fluid. The cold dark wood floors seeping through the slippers on my feet and into my bones in vast contrast to the coffee warming up my chest and throat.

The hot beverage was soon non-existent as the ceramic mug was placed carefully on the metal sink and I trudged back up to my bedroom to change. Something was terribly off with the world or maybe it's just me but something was definitely not right. I pushed it as far to the back of my mind as I could as I entered my bedroom. The still unmade bed halting my plans of getting changed to head to work early as my mind focuses on it and nothing else in the room.

Walking around the bed in methodical precision I tucked the sheet in and lay the duvet over the straining sheet and fixing the pillow I had clearly gripped tightly throughout the night. The room was flooded with light after I had pulled back the curtains, the English weather having taken a holiday, for now, left warm sunlight covering the garden and a mop of black curls walking up the stairs to the front door.

I heard the front door click shut and thudding footsteps up the stairway. With a sigh I moved to my bed, sitting down and waiting patiently for my younger brother to enter and make his accusations. The door flung open without so much as a thought from Sherlock about privacy. He opened his mouth to talk but stopped dead in his tracks and looked baffled.

"Who the hell are you?" the growl coming from deep within Sherlock.

"I don't know what you are talking about..." I began, my voice sounding different but ignoring it I waited for Sherlock.

"I don't care. Where is Mycroft?" Sherlock snapped before looking all around the room to my confusion. I watched as he threw things all over the place and looked in every nook and cranny through the room.

"I am right here," I commented feeling a pang of hatred towards my brother for his obvious ignorance and his failed attempt at a prank.

"Don't know why, but I don't believe you," Sherlock hissed sarcastically before walking out of my bedroom door yelling out my name. Deciding that my brother can do whatever he wants, I head to the en-suite to shower ignoring my brother's behaviour.

The bathroom is a cool white colour with a dark contrasted bench, my feet tap on the tiled floors as I walk over to the bench. I pick up my toothbrush and put some toothpaste on the end before leaning over and wet the toothpaste, my hair getting in my face and blocking my view.

...I don't have long hair. I think to myself slowly, unsure of what's going on. I look at my hands and notice they are more petite than normal and that my pyjama shirt doesn't sit right on my body. Startled by some obvious findings that I should have already noticed I look into the mirror above the basin and see the biggest problem with my morning.

Staring at me from the mirror is not my reflection. The toothbrush in my hand falls to the floor as I stumble backwards, startled by the woman staring at me with wide eyes in the mirror. I turn and crash into one of the many priceless vases in my home. Knocking it to the floor where it smashes as I stumble and trip out of the bathroom.

Breasts. Long hair. Petite hands. Shaved legs. I study every inch of my body scared and horrified my mind skipping over Sherlock's presence as I look at so many things that are wrong.

"This is just a crazy dream. There is no logic behind this," I say to myself. The feeling of fear growing every moment I don't wake up.

"What did I want to be when I was 5?" Sherlock's voice questions from behind me.

"A pirate," I snap as I fall to the floor and continue looking.

"Mother's name,"

"Lydia," I growl at Sherlock's questioning.

"Performance as a teen?" Sherlock's voice sounds worried and scared I realise and look up to see Sherlock staring at me with shock.

"Lady Bracknell," I commented as shock began to sink in.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock stepped back startled as I went back to being confused with my new body.

"Do stop pacing brother mine," I plead as Sherlock begins to pace on the lush Arabian carpet on my bedroom floor.

"Don't pace. Have you looked in the mirror?" Sherlock snapped. "You're a woman. There has to be a logical reason. Costume, make up?"

"Yes, because I thought why not be a woman?" I spat at him.

"Don't get angry with me. I'm not the one who has just had their entire life screwed up!" Sherlock yells before going back to pacing his hands tangled in his hair.

"Sherlock?!" A very common voice to hear calls out.

"Top floor, John!" Sherlock calls back. Footsteps ascending the stairs aids the sounds of Sherlock's pacing before he storms out of the room to join the new footsteps at the end of the hall. Both sets increasing in volume as they get closer to my bedroom. I look down at myself and no longer care about keeping up my cold, emotionless mask as confusion, fear and hatred fills my body beyond the ability of being able to hide it.

"What do you mean you don't know what's happened to your brother?" John's voice inquires just outside of my room. I look up to see John looking out the door still talking to Sherlock before he turns and sees me on the floor glaring at him. John points towards me, turns back to Sherlock as he walks into the room and then back to me. His mouth moving like a goldfish as no sound leaves his mouth in any form of coherent words and people wonder why I call everyone a goldfish.

"Nice prank Sherlock," John assumes staring at the man in question.

"That is Mycroft," Sherlock pushes pointing at me.

"Yeah and I'm the Wizard of Oz," John quips.

"The Wizard of Oz is a poor choice of comparison as the fictional being was a male transported to a different place and you are a male. Whereas, what has happened to me is completely unknown, factual and I am somehow no longer male," I explain angrily.

"Yep. That's Mycroft," John admits and a burning anger fills my stomach. "What do you want me to do?"

"You have medical experience. What happened?" Sherlock asks. It must have been perfectly clear judging by Sherlock's impatience with the army doctor and that he rolled his eyes and John's question.

"You think that someone changing sex overnight with no memory of how it happened happens often do you?" John asks incredulously staring at me with clear confusion. Sherlock places his hands together under his chin and starts to zone out, clearly entering his mind palace.

"I want to run some tests. I want to see if you are still biologically the same or if the change has altered every piece of your DNA," Sherlock exclaims grabbing my arms and pulling me off of the floor before walking out of the room. John shakes his head but follows Sherlock quickly.

"HURRY UP MYCROFT! UNLESS YOU WANT ANTHEA FINDING OUT!" The idea of anyone else finding out moves my feet forwards and down the hall, descend the stairs and out into the waiting cab.

"You will stay at Baker Street until this is reversed," Sherlock orders.

"And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?" I quip. Sherlock glaring at me, his glare affecting me in a way it never has before. It makes me feel compliant and I argue no further. Sherlock's shock evident at my sudden change as the taxi stops outside his apartment.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm your landlady not your housekeeper and personal shopping assistant.

"MRS HUDSON!" Sherlock called out to his landlady as he bounced up the stairs, John walking up at a leisurely pace while I just stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"You might want to hurry up," Sherlock seethed after walking back down to the landing to glare at me before walking back up to 221B. Sighing, I quickly walked up the stairs to have my brother force his coat into my arms.

"What is this for?" I asked annoyed.

"Well, if you like being dressed in your pyjamas that no longer fit. Be my guest," Sherlock growled turning around and sulking over to his chair. I rolled my eyes as I went to scold Sherlock when someone knocked on the door.

"Oh. Hello," Mrs Hudson commented changing her original words upon seeing me.

"Mrs Hudson can you please go into town with..." Sherlock's voice quietens and slows to a stop as he looks at me.

"Michelle. She's a new client but she hasn't got any clothes," John covers. I internally sigh and watch Sherlock nod towards John.

"Of course! Oh, we can go and have a coffee as well," Mrs Hudson notes as she motions for me to follow after her. I turn and glare at John and Sherlock before following after the older lady and out into the foyer under 221B.

"I'll just go get my purse. Meet me at the garage door just around the corner," Mrs Hudson orders politely before turning and entering 221A. Gritting my teeth and inhaling sharply, I walk out the door still wearing my pyjamas and Sherlock's coat. I watched as an Aston Martin pulled out and parked in front of me.

"Well come on," Mrs Hudson's voice called as the window dropped down. I sighed as I opened the door, getting into the cool car and sitting on the leather seat.

"Do you have a bra with you?" the question startled me and cause me to tense.

"Uh, no. I don't," I answered rigidly causing the landlady to laugh.

"Don't worry dear. You aren't expected to remember to put on your bra when you leave your place in a hurry," She laughed as the car came to a stop taking up three car parks outside a large shopping centre.

The older woman got out of the car and walked around to my side as it was the closest to the centre while I was, grudgingly, getting out.

"Come on dear. I won't bite," Her voice was encouragingly sickening.

I will kill you for this Sherlock. I walked after the older woman who was chatting away and smiling proudly as she went while I was hating the lack of respect and authority she was showing me. I worked hard for all of the power I had and now I have none of it. Stupid female body.

"First. Let's get you a bra. You're going to need one," the smiling woman pointed at this body's breasts and I groaned. I looked around and saw the shop we were in was selling all forms of undergarments from bras to underwear to costumes.

"Go on. Pick one you like," I groaned again before grabbing the first bra I saw making Mrs Hudson laugh.

"What?" I inquired already sick of the forced outing. I would much rather go watch Les Miserable with mummy and daddy.

"You won't fit in that dear. Surely you remember your bra size," Mrs Hudson walked over and looked through the rack and pulled out another bra identical in everything but size to the one I held in my hand.

"Go and put this one on and see if it fits," Mrs Hudson took the bra out of my hand, pushing the other against my chest and forcing me into the changing room.

"Oh for god's sake," I cursed taking off the coat and pyjama shirt I had on. I looked in the mirror and was genuinely surprised by how well the pyjama shirt had hidden the size of the body's breasts. I undid the bra's clasp before redoing it once the bra was on, loosening the straps over my shoulders as they dug into my shoulders.

"How's it feel?" I pulled the curtain back and Mrs Hudson laughed again.

"Anyone would think you have never worn a bra before," The woman managed between breaths of laughter. Her hands grabbing the bottom of the bra and pulling it down slightly. The pain I had been feeling after putting the bra on disappeared and the discomfort I did not realise I had vanished as the bra rested under the breasts.

"That feel better?" Mrs Hudson asked sarcastically. She pulled the curtain back across as I removed the item of clothing and the discomfort returned.

"How do women deal with these things? They are just problematic," I grumbled to myself as I redressed myself and walked out of the change room with the bra in my hand.

"Come on. I found you another three in the same size so you should be fine until you can go back home," Mrs Hudson commented as she paid for the three untested bras and having removed the one I held in my hand.

"Next, clothing and then we can get a coffee. Then we will get you some shoes and head back," Mrs Hudson encouraged and the reserved hatred I had for her slowly began to wash away. She dragged me from shop to shop to get clothing from shirts to tank tops, pants to skirts and even a dress.

"Go and put these on and then we will get you some shoes," Mrs Hudson pushed me towards the toilets and I went to open the men's toilets to hear Mrs Hudson laughing. I swallowed heavily before changing direction to the women's toilets with the need to urinate. This could be entertaining.

The toilets were much different to what I had expected. I had expected minimal similarities between the two restrooms but found there to be only one major difference. There were no urinals in the women's toilets.

I undressed from all clothing I was wearing before using the toilet. Clasping the bra on and moving it to under my breasts was the hardest part of getting dressed, I slid the matching underwear on before covering myself with a pair of short denim shorts, that Mrs Hudson had forced me to get, and a black tank top with Sherlock's jacket folded neatly over my arm and my pyjamas folded up neatly underneath.

I washed my hands in the basin and looked into the mirror, startled by the difference in my appearance. The revealing clothing exaggerated my breasts and made my legs appear longer than they really were. I swallowed my pride before walking out of the restroom to see Mrs Hudson gushing at my appearance.

"That looks much better. Here. I hope you like black tea with no sugar," Mrs Hudson commented handing me a large takeaway cup.

"It is how I drink my tea," I commented taking a sip. The warm fluid calming and soothing, making me forget the circumstance I had found myself in.

"We still need to get you some shoes and then we can head back," Mrs Hudson said turning and leaving towards the shops again. I sighed heavily realising that women do have it almost as tough as men. The walk was quick and Mrs Hudson pushed me towards the shoes lined walls telling me to find at least three pairs for me to wear including a pair of black or nude heels.

"Have you found any that you like?" Mrs Hudson questioned as she stood next to me looking at the various pairs of shoes I had pulled off of the shelf.

"I have..." I began but was cut off by Mrs Hudson picking up every single pair and taking them to the counter, before I could make my protest she had paid for all of them and was handing me the bags. The two of us walked out of the mall with lots of bags of clothes and accessories as well as some makeup as apparently women need to wear makeup and lots of jewellery. The drive back to Baker Street was short, too short.

"Do you need help with the shopping?" Mrs Hudson asked as the two of us picked up some bags carrying them into the apartment building and up to 221B.

"I shall be fine thank you," I answered and Mrs Hudson's smile broadened before she nodded and walked back down to her apartment leaving the bags with me outside the door to Sherlock's 'home'. I opened the door to see Sherlock engulfed in his mind palace and John not in his seat. I placed all the bags inside the door before sitting across from my brother as John walked into the lounge

"Sher...wow," John looked up and just stared at me causing Sherlock's eyes to open before widening at my appearance, both men swallowing heavily.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate? As in the greek goddess?

"What now?" I growl at my brother who was still looking at me with wide eyes. Sherlock blinks a few times before getting up and going to the kitchen behind me.

"Now a blood test and some of your saliva," Sherlock explained coming back into the room and kneeling next to me. I move my arm so that my elbow is at a comfortable height for Sherlock as he pushed the small metal needle into my elbow a small pinch of pain the only proof that this torture is real. That I truly am now a woman.

"Oh. I didn't realise you were doing blood tests now," I turned my head to the new feminine voice and did not recognise the long haired woman.

"I need a favour," Sherlock's voice pulling my gaze from the woman as he removes the needle from my arm.

"You're taking blood from someone and asking for a favour. Who are you?" The woman jokes as she walks gracefully over to Sherlock as he stands up from the ground.

"A person in need to help my now female brother," Sherlock comments pointing at me. The woman looks at me then back to Sherlock, her dark eyes wide as she does.

"What do you mean 'your now female brother'?" Her voice carries a fading Greek accent as she speaks fluent English.

"Mycroft. My brother," Sherlock answers pointing at me impatiently before taking a swab of saliva from my mouth while she continued to watch the goings on.

"Um, yeah. Got it," the woman quickly commented shaking her head in agreement. "What do you want me to do though?"

"I need you to teach him how to act like a woman," Sherlock dismissed walking back into the kitchen.

"WHAT?!" I asked my brother incredulously in sync with the unknown woman.

"Would you like anyone else knowing you've had a mysterious sex change, brother dear? You can trust Hecate," Sherlock acknowledges pointing towards the woman.

"Why me? Why couldn't you have gotten Mrs Hudson or Molly to do it?" Hecate asked.

"I don't trust them enough," Sherlock admits with dings and clinks erupting from his 'lab'.

"Hecate as in the Greek Goddess?" I inquired as Sherlock went quiet and ceased his glances our way.

"Yeah," She noted as she moved some of her black her back over her shoulder.

"She's your brother's girlfriend...and my sister," John announced, whispering the last part.

"Thank you for that John," Hecate commented rolling her eyes. Before sitting in Sherlock's chair across from me.

"How much do you know about being a woman so far?" Hecate questioned as she played with her thumbs.

"The basic knowledge on anatomy and structure," I noted watching her carefully and studying her.

"You won't get anything from me. Sherlock's tried numerous times," Hecate stated with a sigh of boredom.

"Adopted by the Watson family. You are not biologically related to John Watson. You are nervous and seemed the most nervous when it was mentioned that I am now female. Do you know what happened?" I stated coolly.

"Yes, I am adopted. That's one more thing than Sherlock could deduce and no I um, I don't know what happened," Hecate explained before standing abruptly. "Come on. We are going to teach you to walk in heels,"

"Why?" I asked not truly believing her and knowing that I will not do anything this witch tells me.

"Because every woman who is a part of society at some point or another will walk in heels. I guess you would want to go back to your job in some aspect?" her question made me nod. I did need to do my job still. I cannot just leave.

"Then you will need to know how to walk in heels," she concluded before walking to the bags of shopping that still lay at the door and coming back over with the pair of black heels and a dress.

"What is this for?" I asked as Hecate dumped the objects into my lap.

"Mycroft, don't test her. She is much worse than Sherlock at his worst when she's having a good day," John noted before walking over to Sherlock.

"Go and get dressed. You can leave the shoes here if you want but you will be wearing them and we are going to go to Scotland yard and back. Partly because Sherlock's about to start yelling bored at the top of his lungs," Hecate commented looking into the kitchen.

"I will not be put through this act of humility by a witch," I snapped at the woman who just looked at me with a storm in her eyes.

"You will go and put the dress on and then you will come back in here to put on the heels. If you refuse again, I will make you change right here. Understood?" Hecate spoke with a menacing tone through gritted teeth.

"You do not control me and I will not do anything you say. Do you know who I am?" I questioned standing up, noticing that I had shrunk overnight, and looking her straight in the eye.

"I don't care who you are or how powerful you think you are. Get changed before I make it worse for you," Hecate had an ulterior meaning behind her words that I could not work out but her tone sent an unknown emotion through my body making me turn to change in the bathroom. I pulled my clothes off of my body, hating the change in appearance and the lack of authority I held.

The dress that Hecate had chosen was one that Mrs Hudson had really liked. The thought of the landlady bringing a small smile to my face as I pulled the knee length dress over my head. The feeling of the dark blue lace on the elastic under layer was comforting as I folded the clothes I had been wearing before exiting the bathroom.

"Now go and put the heels on," Hecate ordered before turning back to Sherlock and continuing their hushed conversation. I sat heavily in the chair feeling awkward without pants or at the very least that pair of shorts on but pushed the feeling away as I unzipped the left shoe first and pushed my foot into it.

"Recommendation for you. Hecate is nice and one of the best people around if you do as she says when she tells you to do something and if you are kind to others. If you don't do as she says or well, be yourself, she is very scary and can make your life a living hell. In simple words, be kind and do what you're told," John commented kneeling down and helping me with the impossible contraptions called high heels.

"I will keep it in mind...T...thank you," I noted struggling to swallow my ego to say my thanks to the army doctor. The man in question smiled his thanks with a nod of his head before standing up and offering me his hands to stand up. I took the offer and stood up with my weight spread evenly over both my feet but as John let go of my hands, I fell forwards and into John.

"Harder than they look?" Hecate asked walking over.

"Unfortunately," I replied trying to stand up on my own with John helping me where he could. Managing to finally stand without further assistance I glared at Hecate feeling every ounce of hatred for this woman growing as her smirk widens.

"Come on. Now you are going to walk to Sherlock and back," Hecate ordered laughing as she watched me fall to the floor on my first step.

"If you're so good at walking in heels prove it," I growled at the end of my patience for this witch. Her smile broadened as she pointed at her feet, when I glanced down I saw 4 inch heels on her feet that she had been walking around in since she arrived. 39 minutes and 21 seconds. That's the amount of time it took for me to be able to walk down the flight of stairs and out onto the paving in front of Sherlock's apartment.

"TAXI!" A taxi soon pulled up at the curb after Hecate called out. She opened the door and held it open while I climbed into the black cab with Hecate close behind me.

"Scotland Yard," The taxi pulled away from Baker Street and I refused to look at the 'wicked witch of the west' as the city sped past the window. I watched everything and nothing as we drove until the taxi slowed to a halt outside the large building of the New Scotland Yard Building.

"Come on. Behave and be nice to Lestrade. No comments like Sherlock and no deductions. Be polite and smile," Hecate ordered as she opened the taxi door and got out with me attempting to not trip...again.

"And why am I doing this?" I snapped at the woman quietly.

"To learn,"


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mystrade anyone?

"Cate!" I look towards the office that homes DI Lestrade for most of his waking hours, and some of his sleeping hours as well, and see him looking up happily to Hecate as she walks into his office.

"It's Hecate, please use it, Greg. Do you have any cases for the impatient man child?" I hear Hecate's words and before I can say a thing Lestrade is laughing.

"He can be like that can't he. Here, this is all we have. Hope it does something," Lestrade offers handing three folders to the woman from hell as I stand in the doorway. Gregory shakes his head at something Hecate says before seeing me and having to do a double take.

"Greg. This is my friend," Hecate begins looking to me and waiting for me to continue.

"Michelle," I manage politely through gritted teeth as he walks around his desk towards me.

"Greg," The DI holds out his hand to me and in politeness I grasp his hand, taken aback when he kisses the back of my hand.

"You two should go out for a coffee. I'm sure I can keep Sherlock entertained long enough to not try and kidnap her," Hecate comments nudging Greg who shakes his head.

"Nah. Another time but right now there's a serial killer targeting women so I'll trust Sherlock to not let such a beautiful woman get killed," Greg flirts with a wink.

"Well, I am organising a date for you two now," Hecate comments ignoring my glare towards her. "Tomorrow night at 7. Dress fancy,"

"I am not normally one to be open about my emotional state, but I hate you." I snapped at Hecate as we rode the elevator back down to the ground level having left Gregory smiling like a schoolboy.

"Get over it. You are going on that date and you will enjoy yourself," Hecate ordered as the elevator doors opened and the two of us headed back out onto the streets to the waiting line of Taxi's. Hecate opened up one of the doors to a taxi and I slid into the back seat trying not to have a go at the witch.

"221B Baker Street Mayfair quickly," Hecate told the driver who nodded before taking off again.

"You just have it out for me don't you?" I growled at the silent woman.

"No. I have it out for egotistical arseholes. Oh wait, yeah I do have it out for you," Hecate answered with sarcasm dripping from her voice. I could feel the hate within me boiling with just the thought of what this woman is doing and her false belief of being more important and powerful than I am.

"And yet you are supposedly dating my brother," I accused making her laugh humourlessly.

"He's changing. He is starting to show some care for other people and he is less of an arsehole about it. Still an infuriating child but that's part of what makes him Sherlock," Hecate pointed out as the taxi pulled up outside my home in Mayfair.

"Anything you need get it now," Hecate commented. When I did not move she motioned to the driver who grumbled loudly before driving to Baker Street. Hecate payed the driver the full amount for both trips when we reached Baker Street and then got out of the car, leaving me to get out on my own and try and walk up the stairs.

I watched the taxi drive off before looking down the street and saw a man staring directly at me. He stood there just staring for a few minutes before turning and walking the opposite direction with no hurry. I shook it off and stumbled up the stairs to see Sherlock and John in their seats with Hecate standing behind Sherlock, all three looking at Gregory who was standing in front of the three.

"I need your help Sherlock," Gregory pleaded upon the deaf ears of my brother.

"Greg..."

"Who's Greg?" Sherlock suddenly perked up looking to John who was the one who had spoken the name.

"Lestrade," Hecate answered.

"What are we supposed to do?" John continued.

"I need to see all of the bodies. All of the information you have here suggests they just died but they couldn't have," Sherlock complains jumping from his seat and strutting towards the door that I was still standing in and putting on his coat.

"Stay close to John, myself or Lestrade if you leave the flat. This person is hunting women who have blue eyes," Sherlock whispered as he tied his scarf before walking out the door with John and Gregory following close behind.

"We are staying here because now I am teaching you how to apply makeup without looking ridiculous," Hecate comments grabbing my hand and dragging me to the bathroom. Fed up with fighting, I don't bother complaining and just follow along.

"First, I want to see you apply a light layer of foundation," Hecate noted handing me a container.

"This is going to be a long evening," I sighed opening the container and looking at the light coloured powder within.

"Get applying," I had to repeat the process numerous times with Hecate taking photos of every attempt I made until I finally got it right.

"Looks good," Hecate complimented taking the foundation container away from me and putting a pencil in my hand.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" I asked incredulously.

"It's eye liner. You use it like this," Hecate began applying a different eyeliner, her precision in its application gaining my respect. She turned to look at me the black lines seemed perfect to the naked eye.

"Your turn," I turned to the mirror and as I lay the eye liner to my eye, I blinked and had a black line on my eyelid. Hecate laughed at me before grabbing a wipe and cleaning my eye.

"Try again," she said still laughing. 39 attempts to manage to get one eye done to an semi-adequate standard when her phone began ringing.

"What's wrong Sherlock? And you're on speaker," Hecate answered the phone, putting it on speaker before laying it down on the sink.

"Neither of you leave the flat unless John, Greg or myself are there. The killer is not killing random blue eyed women like Scotland Yard thought. Every woman has an association with John and I," Sherlock replied.

"You can't just..."

"This person will kill you both, Mycroft. John and I are on our way back now. Behave and open the door to no one except us," Sherlock ordered hanging up leaving Hecate and I in an awkward silence staring at her phone.

"I am not remaining here like an animal," Hecate commented before looking at me.

"For the first time in the last 6 hours I have known you, I agree with you," I stated managing to get the remaining eye done in one go with the eye liner. Hecate grabbed two cylindrical containers from her makeup bag before grabbing my face.

"Close your eyes. I'll do the rest for you and then we are going to the mall down the street," I closed my eyes and listened to the rest of Hecate's reply feeling something tugging at my eyelashes before something running along my lips.

"Okay, get changed into something comfy so we can get out of here before Sherlock and John get back," I nodded my agreement going through the still unpacked shopping bags and changing right there into a pair of shorts, the first shirt I grabbed and some sandals before following Hecate out the door of the apartment and out onto the London streets towards the mall that I was at earlier today.

"Do you have your phone?" Hecate asked me as we reached the mall. I nodded pulling it out and laying it in her waiting hand. She turn it off before giving it back to me and repeating the process with her own phone.

"We are going to have fun here and no, girls don't have to go shopping to enjoy themselves. Let's go," Hecate grabbed my hand and pulled me after her in a jog towards the escalators, leaving the secluded streets for the packed shopping centre full of the smell of greasy food and overpowering perfume.

"What are you two doing?!" Hecate and I turned to see Gregory standing behind us with wide eyes.

"Annoying Sherlock and doing what we want to do," Hecate answered nudging me closer to the DI with her hip.

"You two should go to the cafe near Tesco on the bottom floor and have dinner," Hecate suggested before running off waving her phone at me as she turned it back on. Sighing, I turned mine back on and looked to the blushing DI.

"Did, uh, did you want to have dinner. With me. In the, um, the café," Gregory over explained as an unfamiliar heat rushed to my face.

"Of course," Gregory smiled before leading the way.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg gets around a bit. Is that where John gets it from?

"Are you ready to order?" An over chirpy feminine voice questioned to my right. I turned my head but had to push my hair out of my face to look at the young bleached blonde woman who was staring at Greg.

"Not just yet," Greg said giving the girl a glance. I saw her huff before leaving back to the kitchen. I watched the door to the kitchen for a moment before looking back to Greg who was staring at me.

"Do I have something on my face?" I asked cleaning my face a bit.

"No. You just," Greg hesitated as he appeared to be trying to find his words before shaking his head.

"What?" I asked curious to know what he was thinking.

"Don't worry. It's something I shouldn't be saying to a gorgeous woman on a first date," Greg said with a wink and a cheeky smirk as that new sensation of heat on my cheeks grew.

"I would like to know," I commented.

"That," Greg startled in mild surprise. "You have moments where you remind me of Sherlock's older brother,"

"Is that a good thing?" I inquired feeling very self-conscious about his opinion of me.

"You have an air of authority similar to him but the guys a stuck up asshole a lot of the time. As far as I know, you aren't so it's not too bad," Greg explained as the waitress returned.

"I am not like that at all," I defended causing Greg to lean back and put his hands up in mock defence.

"I'm not saying you are,"

"Are you ready to order now?" The waitress inquired. Greg motioned to me and the waitress turned towards me with a hateful look.

"May I have the Caesar salad with an orange juice please," I ordered and the blonde girl wrote it down before turning to Greg and lowering her body a bit allowing for him to see her already overexposed breasts. A feeling washed through my veins as Greg made his order glancing at the goldfish's breasts occasionally.

"Are you okay?" Greg's voice cut into my anger and simmered it down as I glared at the blonde while she walked back towards the kitchen.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth.

"Are you jealous?" Greg asked.

"No." I snapped in mild annoyance.

"I am sorry that you are jealous about an ex of mine but she was a bitch so you don't have to worry," Greg encouraged modestly and I felt the new feeling slowly fade away into the back of my mind but it still ebbed away with a vengeance because of that woman.

"Where do you work?"

"The British government," I bit my tongue after my reply as I realised that I couldn't say that anymore. That I was no longer exactly employed by any means.

"Wow. I feel sorry for you," Greg's eyes were wide as he looked at me with an apologetic look.

"Why do you feel sorry for me?" Two plates of food and our drinks were placed on the table before Greg could answer my question. We thanked the annoyed blonde waitress, despite the feeling that I should have her fired, then Greg went deep into thought.

"I don't know quite how to word this politely so I'll be blunt. If you work for the British government then your superior, your boss, is the man I was telling you about earlier. That guy isn't in anyway the nicest of people," Greg's statement held so much honesty that I began to hate myself. I had never wanted people to think of me as their friend but now I regret that and want Sherlock's friends to like me as me not this woman but they all hate me, so I will hate myself.

"Michelle. Are you okay?" Greg had concern in his eyes as he looked at me with care and kindness.

"Uh, yeah. Just not feel..."

"Sorry. We're leaving. Now," Hecate grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the seat and along behind her as Greg quickly threw some cash on the table and followed after us.

"What's going on?" Greg inquired as we left the shopping centre and out into the carpark.

"The victims are Tall. English. Have blue eyes which are recessive in the human genetic code. Have a connection to Sherlock and or John. Apart from the connection to John and or Sherlock, name one person who is a contradiction to all three of those, is a known murderer or criminal mastermind that has an addiction to Sherlock and that is following us currently,"

"I thought he was dead. He killed himself. Sherlock said that he pulled the trigger and shot himself," Greg complained pulling Hecate and I towards a car and unlocking it so we could all get in.

"Why would Moriarty want to kill people in that demographic?" I asked sitting slightly turned to face Greg as he pulled out of the carpark and Hecate who was sitting in the back seat.

"Good question, here's a better one. What's the age range?" Hecate threw out dismissing my question.

"28 – 39. Wha... oh," Greg's face had recognition plastered onto it as he drove through the streets to Baker Street.

"I don't understand," I noted looking at Hecate.

"Bet you don't say that often." Hecate pipped up smirking at me.

"Moriarty is killing women that could be of possible attraction to Sherlock." Greg explained giving Hecate a disapproving glance in the rear view mirror.

"They are all around his age or younger, blue eyes are supposed to be aesthetically pleasing to most for I don't know what reason and Sherlock is a tall Englishman so any women he falls in love with are going to be taller than average height and," Hecate said open endedly looking at me.

"English. So Moriarty will be after you,"

"And you. You may not be... dating Sherlock but you do have a very strong connection to him. That will probably be enough for Moriarty," Hecate explained before exiting the parking car and sprinting up into Baker Street.

"She is too much like Sherlock and Mycroft some days," Greg got out of the driver's seat and ran around to open the car door for me.

"Thank you," I responded as Greg helped me out of the car and to the door to 221B.

"I don't feel like dealing with the smart ass child so I will say goodnight. I am sorry that dinner was ruined though," Greg noted as we faced each other.

"What did happen was good," I encouraged bringing a smile to Greg's face.

"Try again tomorrow night? Fish and chips on the beach at sunset?" I nodded my agreement broadening Greg's smile before kissing his cheek goodnight. As Greg drove away, my actions reached my brain and a feeling of idiocy filled my brain at what I had just done as I walked up the stairs to Sherlock's apartment.

"Why didn't I think of that? John!" Sherlock's voice called out from the void called his apartment.

"John is at work, Sherlock. What do you need?"

"Molly. We need to go to the morgue. If this is indeed Moriarty then there will be something. Some sort of message," Sherlock was pacing around the living room and into the kitchen before repeating the process as he explained to Hecate what was going through his head.

"Ahh, Mycroft. How was the date?" Sherlock questioned as he grabbed his trench coat and tied his scarf around his neck.

"Don't start brother mine," I growled at him.

"Come along," Sherlock chirped as he walked out the door and back down to the street. Hecate looked at me and rolled her eyes before following after him with a smile, pulling me lightly after her.

"Why am I required?" I questioned Hecate as we walked down the final flight of stairs to the street below.

"You should try and get people to like you, even while you are like this. Beginning with the people Sherlock is often around you may find it easier to get other people to like you. You may not get a better opportunity to talk to Molly than after Sherlock has left the morgue. He will, stupidly, hurt her emotionally. Help her out," Hecate suggested honestly with a tear forming in her eye as we exited Baker Street and out onto the street.

"Took you two long enough. Hurry up," Sherlock snapped from inside the waiting taxi.

"Saint Bart's," Sherlock told the taxi driver while I watched Hecate who seemed hurt after telling me about what Sherlock does to Miss Hooper. I looked out the window and watched the buildings pass by as I thought about what Hecate had said.

Maybe, if I can get people to like me. To see me as a friend and not a stuck-up asshole, I could go back to being me but what if I decide that I do not want to after all this?


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all get to read this earlier than my readers on Wattpad. Please enjoy!

“Is that… Is that a new shirt?” Sherlock asked looking at the shirt that Miss Hooper was wearing. I rolled my eyes and looked at Hecate who was clenching and unclenching her hands.  
“Yeah,” Molly’s whisper voice cut through the morgues silence.  
“It, ah, it suits you. The style looks great on you,” Sherlock complimented. Molly smiled a bit before leading Sherlock over to the gurneys further into the room.  
“I hate it when he does that to her,” Hecate growled in a whisper. I looked over to her and could see pain and hurt on her face.  
“Why? He has always done that,” I noted turning away from the dead bodies.  
“That’s the point. He’s leading her on. She throws away good relationships because she wants to be with him but he has no interest,” Hecate answered turning to face out the windows with me.  
“HECATE!” Sherlock’s voice called out. Hecate sighed heavily before grabbing my arm and dragging me with her. She pushed me lightly towards a very hurt looking Molly while she wandered over to Sherlock’s side.  
“I never got your name,” Molly said holding out her hand with a fake smile.  
“Michelle. Why are you using a fake smile?” I questioned honestly quite unsure.  
“Are they… you know,” Molly questioned motioning to Sherlock and Hecate who were staring at a spot on the left breast of one of the women.  
“I don’t know,” I answered wishing that she would just say whatever she is thinking and not this annoying communication. No wonder Sherlock is disinterested.  
“Are they together?”  
“Supposedly,” I replied coolly and saw the pain break through Molly’s fake smile.  
“Oh,” Molly turned away excusing herself and left the morgue. When I turned to look at the other two, Hecate was glaring at me as she stormed over to me.  
“You go out there and you apologise to her now. Then you will support her as she cries and talks about her problems. Go,” Hecate ordered. Her eyes blazing with hatred towards me and I felt the hatred that I had for the woman grow.  
“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do wench,” I replied feeling better about getting to have a go at her.  
“If you enjoy being alive and being able to fit into society rather than looking like the dumbest woman alive, I suggest you get your arse out there and help her or I will make sure you regret every day of the rest of your pathetic existence.” Hecate said with no emotion showing on her face but the threat in her voice was aggressive.  
“If you ever tell me what to do again after this, I will have you killed.” I growled before snapping around and walking after the sad coroner. The laminate floor had occasional water droplets that led to one of the labs further down the hall, close to the emergency exit. I opened the door and saw Molly sitting at the bench that I can normally find Sherlock at. Her head in her hands as sobs racked her body.  
“Oh. I didn’t hear you walk in,” Molly’s eyes were red and puffy as she looked up and saw me. She still had tears streaming down her cheeks but a big fake smile plastered on her face.  
“I thought you might want someone to talk to. I’m sorry about whatever it is I said that hurt you,” I swallowed all of my pride and my ego to sit next to her and pretend that I was willing to hear her pain. God, Sherlock and Hecate are going to die a painful death.  
“It wasn’t you. You seem like a great person,” Molly said letting her fake smile drop and something about her opening up to me, just that little bit, to show her true emotions made me feel a bit better.  
“Tell me,” I encouraged feeling like I was swallowing bleach as I spoke.  
“Sherlock is always flirting with me if he isn’t acting like an… an… an asshole. He’s cute and can be an amazing man when he isn’t being ignorant and trying to push people away. But then he uses people. He uses his brother to manipulate others, me to get to see bodies that he wouldn’t get to see otherwise. John for his military background. He uses everyone and thinks it’s fine. He does it so often that it hurts everyone around him,” Molly cried leaning on my shoulder.  
“Why do you let him use you if you don’t like it?” I asked honestly confused bu her perspective but there was so much truth and pain behind her words I could feel myself holding back tears.  
“Because I… I love him,” Molly said in a whisper.  
“But he’ll never like me back as more than just a tool,” I wrapped an arm around the small young woman and gave her a bit of a hug as her words echoed through my head. Sherlock does use people and it is wrong.  
“Maybe we could get him to stop using people like tools,” I suggested and felt Molly nod against my shoulder.  
“We have to go,” I snapped my head up and saw Hecate standing in the doorway. I nodded my head before releasing Molly from the half embrace.  
“Thanks Michelle. If you ever need to talk to someone or just want to hang out, I’d be happy to.” Molly said with a real smile on her face bringing a smile to mine.  
“Thank you,” I gave her a quick hug before walking out of the hospital witch Hecate.  
“How do you feel after that?” Hecate asked. I looked at her shocked when her voice was actually happy and seemed to have a proud tone mixed in.  
“I don’t quite know,” I stated confused by the warm feeling in my stomach.  
“You helped her though and now she likes you. You’ve just made a friend Mycroft,” Hecate pointed out. I stopped dead in my tracks and thought about what Hecate had said while she kept walking out onto the street. I felt a smile tugging at my lips and a warm kind of joy filling my body.  
“I’ve made a friend,” I had to say it out loud to myself, not completely believing the surreal feeling. I walked out of the building and saw Hecate waiting for me at a taxi with the door open.  
“You coming?” She called out. I nodded and walked quickly over to her and slid into the taxi next to her.  
“Why are you smiling?” I felt my mood drop a bit as Molly’s words rang through my head about Sherlock.  
“That is for me to know. You need to stop using Miss Hooper just for the sake of using the morgue,” I stated making my brother cock an eyebrow.  
“I thought caring wasn’t an advantage brother mine,” Sherlock quipped.  
“I am starting to believe that may be wrong. Besides, you have a girlfriend. That requires sentiment,” I pointed out causing Sherlock to shut his mouth and look out the taxi window as it continued to drive through the London streets. As the taxi pulled up at Baker Street, Sherlock was a bullet a gate to get into his apartment but Hecate stayed and waited with me.  
“You should get some rest,” Hecate pointed out with a soft smile.  
“No more training to be a woman?” I asked half joking.  
“Not tonight. You helped Molly and became friends in the process. I think that earns you a break,” Hecate turned to the taxi driver and payed the fare while I began walking up to the apartment that I have to share with my brother.  
“Mycroft,” I turned around to face Hecate when I was halfway up the first flight of stairs.  
“Yes?” I asked looking down at the woman.  
“Grab your clothes and other things. You can stay down in 221C with me so you don’t have to put up with John and Sherlock,” Hecate stated walking up the stairs behind me. I smiled to myself before completing the vertical walk to 221B finding Sherlock to not be in the living room.  
“He’ll be in the bathroom,” Hecate pointed out as she grabbed some of the bags that remained in the corner of the living room next to the door.  
“Ah. That explains,” I grabbed the rest of the bags and followed Hecate downstairs to her apartment. The appearance being very different to the first time I had seen it. The room looked much bigger and looked much better. It looked similar to Sherlock’s apartment only cleaner.  
“There’s a spare room in here for you to use,” Hecate said dropping the bags in her hands on the floor just inside the door.  
“Bathroom through there. Kitchen’s there if you’re hungry or need a drink before bed. If you want to have a smoke, use Sherlock’s apartment,”  
“Thank you Hecate,” Maybe she isn’t as bad as I had first thought.


	8. Chapter 7

“Your knowledge on being nice is minimal,” I complained glaring at Hecate as she drank the remainder of her tea.  
“Says the hypocrite in front of me,” Hecate growled placing her cup in the sink and walking out of the kitchen. “Hurry up or I’ll leave you down here with no clothes and no electricity,”  
“I wonder how hard it would be to convince someone to kill her?” I wondered aloud to myself. I stood up from the uncomfortable wooden seat and wondered into the spare bedroom, that Hecate had allowed me to use, to get dressed when a pain in my stomach made me double over. I wrapped an arm around my waist as my legs collapsed under me, the pain started to ebb away slowly after a minute of intense pain.  
“Oh for the sake of the gods. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen,” I turned to glare at Hecate who seemed genuinely concerned and worried.  
“You were hoping what wouldn’t happen?” I growled as the pain kicked in again.  
“You get to experience something that most women get. Quite a lot of women also receive pain, nausea, dizziness, light headedness and mood swings with it. You get to experience a period. Good on you,” Hecate said with sarcasm dripping with her last words.  
“A grammar mark used at the end of a sentence?” I asked incredulously of the witch as she walked into the bathroom.  
“It’s, by its proper name, called a menstrual cycle. Is that better your correction and grammatical Nazi-ness?” Hecate walked back in and threw some form of disposable item at me.  
“I don’t believe you,” I grumbled trying to stand up on my own two feet but found the pain quite demobilising.  
“You can believe me or not but it’s happening. If you want you can listen and use the pad I have just thrown you to hide that fact from everyone. Then only you and I will know and it won’t reach Sherlock’s ears. Got it?” I gave her a stoic glare causing her to huff and crouch down right in front of me.  
“Or, you ignore me, get changed and walk out of this apartment bleeding, embarrass yourself in front of everyone and will never hear the end of it from John, myself or Sherlock,” Hecate snapped before leaving the room and slamming the door shut. I could hear her footsteps going up to the apartment above and fear shot through my body. What if she tells Sherlock?  
I stood up, pushing through the pain and removed my pyjamas from my body finding the pants to have blood through the groin area and my legs to have some blood running down the inside. Swallowing at the sight of blood I looked away, grabbing my clothes for the day and hoping into the shower to cleanse myself and hopefully not reveal this to Sherlock. I would never hear the end of it.  
While showering I discovered just how hard it is to concentrate while having cramps in my lower stomach and just how uncomfortable it really is for women during their menstrual cycle. The only other thought in my head was the most alarming thought. For a woman to bleed like this once a month means that they are fertile, thus can be impregnated during the right time of the cycle. Hecate and Sherlock are not cruel enough to force me to do something like… that, would they?  
I turned the shower off and dried my body. The common cotton towel feeling funny against my naked body.  
“What the fuck is taking you so long?” Hecate stormed into the bathroom, forcing the door open while I remained naked in the bathroom. Trying to work out how this... ‘pad’ works.  
“I was cleaning myself,” I said trying to sound confident and annoyed. Not desperate for help.  
“You don’t know what a pad is do you?” Hecate said through unamused eyes and looking like I was the dumbest person in the world. I swallowed my pride knowing that as much as I hated her, I needed her help to get through.  
“I have no clue,” I resigned before reaching for my bra and putting it on.  
“You just have to ask for help, Mycroft. You don’t need to be isolated and alone,” Hecate said comfortingly as her hands traced an imaginary line on my back while she clipped my bra together.  
“And why should I? Why should I ask a witch for help? You do very little other than torment me,” I growled not caring anymore and letting my anger and frustration out.  
“If you never wanted to be a woman then perhaps you should have tried seeing our point of view and realising you are not superior!” Hecate snapped.  
“I AM SUPERIOR!”  
“Everyone is equal Mycroft! You fired people for being pregnant! You hurt women because you saw them as pathetic!” Hecate yelled at me.  
“They are. So are you,” I seethed.  
“Look in the mirror asshole. If you wanted to be yourself and never have experienced this, you should have tried to understand that you are nothing but a poor excuse of a man. Women go through just as much if not more than men do on a daily basis, purely because of their gender. Finish getting yourself ready and meet myself, Sherlock and John at 39 Farmer Avenue in 20 minutes or I will not help you anymore,”  
I stood gobsmacked as Hecate turned heel and left. Her threat was not life threatening but the power and the problems that could come from the consequences of not doing as she said… they far outweighed a threat to my life. I pulled on the panties I had grabbed, opting to pass on my original choice of shorts and a shirt for the day and grabbed a dress from the bags still on the floor. Grabbing a set of sandals I headed for 221B Baker Street, jumping the stairs two at a time to find everyone had already left.  
“Damn it,” I began to head down the stairs when I bumped into Mrs Hudson who seemed upset.  
“Michelle. Can you stay please?” I had planned on saying no but something made me want to stay and comfort the seemingly upset woman. Despite knowing that Hecate would abandon me to learn on my own I nodded and followed Mrs Hudson into her apartment. The woman collapsed into one of the chairs and began shaking in silent sobs. A pang of guilt washed over me so I sat next to her and hesitantly wrapped my arm around her shoulders.  
“Why, um, why are you upset?” I questioned unsure if I should or shouldn’t.  
“That man. The one that shot himself on the rooftop. He was here,” I tensed as I realised she was talking about Moriarty.  
“What did he want?” I asked knowing that if Sherlock didn’t already know, he need to.  
“He… He said that. He said that he was going to make Sherlock regret surviving,” Mrs Hudson had tears drenching her face, her eyes beginning to tint red.  
“Did he say how?” I asked. The landlady shook her head revealing dark patches on her neck. I put the back of my hand against her neck and pulled down slightly to reveal a black bruise in the shape of a hand print over her trachea.  
“I wouldn’t tell him who you were,” Mrs Hudson’s voice was quiet and croaky as she spoke. I had almost missed her words but felt hurt and guilt knowing she had suffered this to help me.  
“Thank you,” I got off of the sofa walking into her kitchen. I flicked the kettle on and searched for her favourite hot beverage. As there was only one type of tea in her kitchen I deduced that it must have been that one and not the coffee within the numerous cupboards. Adding boiling water and a small dash of milk into the cup, I carried the tea back to her hoping it might calm her down a bit more.  
“Thank you,” Mrs Hudson said with a thankful smile that twisted the edges of her lips as she began to drink.  
“You are welcome,” I answered feeling an almost fluffy warm feeling in my stomach making me forget some of the stomach cramps.  
“May I ask why you didn’t tell him who I was?” I questioned. It was the only thing I could think about when she had told me other than to try and get more information.  
“You are a sweet and wonderful girl. I would have given anything to have had a daughter like you,” Mrs Hudson lay a hand on my cheek with a smile stretched over her lips. I didn’t know what to say to that but just sat there with her as she began to tell me some stories about her husband. From how they met to the moment he was killed and I couldn’t help but smile.


	9. Chapter 8

“Michelle,” I turned around to see Lestrade standing at the door to the apartment building looking worried but thankful.  
“Yes Gregory?” I inquired turning to face him.  
“Hecate said you hadn’t turned up at the scene and you were supposed to. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Gregory walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him.  
“I am fine. Thank you for your concern. Mrs Hudson however needs some medical attention,” I replied as the door slammed open.  
“Why does she need medical attention?” John looked scared and concerned. I pulled away from Gregory’s embrace and faced the army doctor.  
“Moriarty was here. She’s through there, Doctor Watson, and I will explain all I know when Sherlock and Hecate get back,” I noted pointing towards the landlady’s apartment. As John disappeared into the apartment, Sherlock and Hecate arrived and I saw the proud smile on Hecate’s face.  
“Geoff. I need you to do something,” Sherlock ordered. I heard Gregory sigh but nod his head and Molly’s words flooded my mind.  
“Sherlock. His name is Greg,” Hecate scolded before grabbing my arm and dragging me into her apartment behind her. I was waiting for her to have a go at me but she scared me when she gave me a hug.  
“What are you doing?” I asked tensing and not returning her quick embrace.  
“You chose to help someone else before yourself. Even with the ultimatum I gave you,” Hecate handed me a small item, a turquoise pendant hung on a fine silver chain.  
“Why are you giving me this?” I asked her unsure about her motive this time.  
“Just take it,” Hecate said with a sigh as she turned towards the kitchen. I flipped the item over a few times studying it, coming to the conclusion that it was pure silver and some form of blue green shell.  
“Before you ask me again, it’s from Lestrade. He didn’t want your brother to know it was from him,” I was surprised to say the least. I looked at the clasp and unhooked it, holding the chain up catching the sun on the pendant.  
“Paua. It’s a New Zealand shell found in the ocean,” I glanced over at Hecate who was holding her hands out. I passed her the necklace and grabbed my hair out of the way.  
“Is it significant?” Hecate walked behind me and placed the necklace over my neck as she attached the clasp together.  
“It represents the tides of emotion, sensitivity to others, family in particular motherhood and the harmony between relationships,” Hecate answered moving back in front of me.   
“Is he trying to say something?” I asked sarcastically.  
“He’s trying to say that he loves you. That you are a kind and caring person,” I felt a warmth on my face and a smile pulling at my lips.  
“Look. A genuine smile. He’s good for you Mycroft,” I felt my smile broaden and the heat intensify.  
“Sorry for intruding. Sherlock said you wouldn’t mind me just walking in,” I snapped around to see Lestrade in the door way with bright red cheeks.  
“That’s all right. Why don’t you two go out again? I won’t be there this time so that you can have some privacy,” Hecate ushered Lestrade onto the couch in her living room before grabbing my arm and dragging me into the room I have been using.  
“Get dressed into something comfy and casual,” I shook my head slightly laughing but stopped when I remembered that I need Hecate’s help.  
“What are you doing?” Hecate walked back into the room looking at me weirdly.  
“I never worked out how to, um,” I think I’ve worked out that this feeling is embarrassment.   
“Here,” Hecate motioned for me to follow her into the bathroom. I followed a little unsure but relaxed a little when she grabbed a clean pad.  
“Okay. So you open it like this and remove this, then you put it like this, folding these bits underneath here. Got it?” Hecate asked showing me what to do with a clean pair of panties.  
“Yeah, I think so. Like this,” I repeated Hecate’s tutoring and earned a proud smile. She nodded her head to me and then turned and left.  
I removed the clothes I had been wearing for the hour to find some blood on them. Shaking my head I placed them in the small pile of dirty washing and reached for the clothes I had originally opted for earlier this morning.  
“Lestrade’s upstairs with John at the moment. Sherlock went running god knows where,” Hecate said ushering me towards the door out of her apartment after I had exited my room.  
“I feel like you have a plan that you are not sharing,” I noted as I turned and faced her. She smiled politely before closing her apartment door, leaving me alone in the foyer. Sighing, I walked towards the stairs questioning whether or not this was a smart idea. Going on these excursions with the Detective Inspector.  
“My- Michelle,” My head quirked up to see Doctor Watson and Gregory walking down the stairs. Gregory turned his head looking at John somewhat confused but quickly shook his head as the two men reached the ground floor.  
“Doctor Watson. Gregory,” I nodded my head towards both men as a greeting but felt very self-conscious as Gregory looked over my body.  
“Sorry mate. I just need to have a quick private word with Michelle,” John stated grabbing my arm and pulling me back towards Hecate‘s apartment.  
“Please tell me you are not dating Lestrade,” stunned would be an understatement. I don’t know if I am on not.  
“I am unsure. I believe I might be,” I answered still having to think about the answer.  
“Yes he is,” Hecate opened her apartment door and walked over to the two of us.  
“And how many times have you had a go at him?” John seemed like he was annoyed.  
“I haven’t,” John’s head perked up fast enough that he may have been able to get whiplash and he just stared at me mouth agape.  
“You’re telling me that the most cold-hearted and easily annoyed man, on Earth, has not had a go at Lestrade?” Hecate slapped John over the back of the head, scowling at him.  
“Leave him alone, John. He’s actually not as bad as he seems,” Hecate defended before nodding to me and leaving the foyer and out onto the street.  
“If you somehow manage to convince Lestrade to come back here after what I am assuming is a date, I’ll believe the both of you,” John stated motioning to me and the door the Hecate had left open.  
“I do not care if you believe her or not,” I snapped rolling my eyes before stalking past John and over to Gregory who seemed a little out of place.  
“Are you, um, ready to go?” I nodded in response before following after Gregory as we exited the building. As we walked down the street in a comfortable silence, I looked to Gregory to see that he was deep in thought and I worried that perhaps he had worked it out.  
“Why do Sherlock and John seem so cautious about you?” was his only question as he looked down to me.  
“I am unsure. It may be that they do not fully trust me,” I answered semi honestly. They probably don’t trust me. Well, John doesn’t but Sherlock probably never will. I sighed a little at the thought of having been the cause of my brothers distrust of people.  
“I’m sure they’ll warm up to you. I mean Hecate seems to like you. She’ll only ever help people if she likes them,”  
“What?” I asked stopping dead in my tracks.  
“Hecate. She doesn’t help people unless she likes them. Wouldn’t help Sherlock for almost 6 months. Best 6 months of my life. John’s too probably,” Gregory laughed but I could only focus on the first bit.  
“What if she helps someone but doesn’t treat them in a way that says that she likes them?” I asked, Gregory walking back towards me with curiosity on his face.  
“Only person I have ever seen her do that to was Sherlock. It’s like she wanted him to be a better person and so was willing to help but she felt offended or hurt by something that he was always doing,” I nodded my head thinking about Lestrade’s comment.  
“Did she get touchy when Sherlock tried to deduce her?”  
“No. Come to think of it, the only time she really acted badly around him was at the morgue,” that was what I needed to hear.  
“Strange,” I stated walking with Gregory towards the park. He seemed to enjoy talking and looking in all the shop windows so I grabbed out my phone and texted Hecate.  
Is it because of the way I treat the majority of people that you don’t like me? – MH


	10. Chapter 9

“So how long have you lived in London?” I thought carefully about my answer trying to remember exactly how long.  
“Since I was 21. That’s when I first started working for the government,” I answered nodding.  
“So 10 to 15 years,”  
“Thank you for the compliment but it would be closer to 20 years,” I noted feeling my cheeks redden.  
“You blush a lot. Do people not compliment you often?” I turned towards Gregory, just enjoying the sun light. Something I never really got to enjoy while working for the government.  
“Not really. Most would not consider me their acquaintance, let alone a friend. I am not usually considered very nice or good company,” I admitted feeling guilt. Maybe I do deserve this, not the being with Gregory but having to face the challenge of being a woman.  
“Well, I think you’re bloody brilliant company. And I consider you as more than a friend, Michelle. Much more than a friend,” I looked at Gregory who seemed slightly unsure and confused.  
“Are you okay Gregory?” my question snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned to me with a smile.  
“Yeah. I just, I’m unsure about something. Sherlock never makes deductions about you and yet he makes deductions about everyone else,”  
“I don’t know why he doesn’t. He did once and that was it,” I answered his unasked question. His eyes asking it for him.  
“I should probably get you back before Sherlock starts accusing me of kidnapping you,” I looked at my phone to see three missed texts from Hecate and that we had been out for nearly 4 hours.  
“Possibly,” I mused taking Gregory’s outstretched hands and pulling myself to my feet. Gregory kept grasp of my hand as he and I walked back through London’s streets in the mid-afternoon sunlight.  
“Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea or something?” I asked as Gregory was about to leave.  
“Okay,” he seemed nervous but joyful as he followed me into the foyer. As I was about to lead him towards Hecate’s apartment John walked down stairs only for his jaw to drop open.  
“Sherlock! I owe you 50 quid!” John called out up the stairs before nodding to the two of us.  
“Both of them are upstairs,” John mentioned before leaving.  
“I guess we should go upstairs then,” I nodded at Gregory’s statement as we both began the ascent. The two in question were on Sherlock’s chair. Sherlock in his mind palace and Hecate reading on his lap.  
“How was the date?” Hecate marked her page, closing her book and placed it down on the coffee table.  
“It was great,” Gregory stated seemingly a little unsure.  
“Good. I’ll be back with Michelle in a moment,” Hecate stated leaping from Sherlock’s lap startling him and stalking towards me before dragging me towards my brother’s room.  
“What on Earth was with the text and then not responding?”  
“I sent the text and had meant to reply when I got a response from you but got a little carried away with window shopping on the way to the park,” I seethed. Hecate just glared at me and something made me just want to curl up on the floor and disappear.  
“Well, to answer your question. Yes, it is why I hate you but I think you could be better. Much better,” she growled to me.  
“I don’t see you being very kind,” I snapped making a small almost mocking smile quirk the edges of her lips.  
“I’m not the one stuck in the opposite genders body with no knowledge on what could go wrong and how to deal with it if it does,” I had to concede to that. I didn’t know what else could go wrong and I don’t particularly want to find out on my own.  
“Hurry up you two. We’re going to a crime scene,” Sherlock called out. His voice getting quieter very quickly.  
“Hurry up,” Hecate growled quickly exiting the room and out the front door. I found John to be the only person still within the apartment.  
“Lestrade had to go just after you were dragged off by Hecate. But mark me as impressed,” John said offering me his hand.  
“Didn’t you just leave?” I questioned not meaning any offence… mostly.  
“Yeah. To Speedy’s to get a drink that Sherlock threw in the bin the moment I handed it to him,” I nodded my head in understanding before the two of us headed down stairs and into the awaiting cab.  
“What were you two doing? Getting intimate?” I glared at Sherlock and I guessed John was too when he began smirking.  
“Sherlock,” Hecate growled at my brother. He rolled his eyes over-dramatically to look at her, a smile slightly quirking at her lips.  
“Behave,” Hecate laughed out as Sherlock pretended to sulk. I snapped towards John when I saw him shift uncomfortably.  
“What are you doing?” I questioned the shorter man.  
“Those two. It’s weird seeing him… like… well like that,” John motioned to the two who were now leaning against one another, Hecate looking like she was about to fall asleep on Sherlock’s shoulder.  
“Indeed,” I watched the two carefully. They didn’t seem to be showing any affection towards each other beyond a basic façade. Maybe they are not actually together or… maybe she isn’t who she says she is.  
“Mycroft?” I blinked a few times focusing on the hand in front of my face. When I turned to look at the owner of the hand, all three other people in the taxi were looking at me worried.  
“What?” Sherlock glanced at Hecate who just stared at me stunned.  
“I think I’ll go back to Baker Street with you. You two do whatever you have to,” John said dismissively. Sherlock and Hecate nodded and got out of the car before it began moving back towards Baker Street.  
“What is going on?” I questioned but was quickly handed John’s smart phone. I grasped the device and realised it was in that absurd camera type that allows one to take photos of themselves.  
“Look at yourself,” John urged me when I glanced at him confused. Sighing I looked at the screen only to drop the phone onto the taxi floor, still able to see male me looking back.  
“I still…”  
“Sound like a woman. Yeah, we noticed. You need to get into Baker Street without anyone else seeing you or hearing you,” John cautioned as the taxi pulled up at the curb. He handed me a key before getting out to pay the driver while I scampered for the door. I got upstairs as quickly as I could shutting the door and leaning against it. I listened to footsteps on the stairs and held my breath.  
“Mycroft,” I released my breath and opened the door for John before walking over and sitting on the couch.  
“By the way. Mrs Hudson should be okay. She only suffered some superficial bruising,” John said sitting next to me on the couch.  
“That’s good then,” I admitted sighing slightly.  
“Maybe Hecate’s right,” I looked to John to see him looking at me honestly.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You are a better person than what you let people see,” I looked back to the floor and sighed before leaning back against the couch.  
“Is a person not allowed to do what they believe is in the best interest of most people?” I asked looking at him.  
“Being cold and an asshole is not in the best interest of most people. Kindness is needed to be human and humanity is needed for there to be kindness. The one time Sherlock ever mentioned his childhood, all he said was he remembered not having a sibling or a friend. He remembered a dominating shadow that tried to control his life,” I sighed again remembering when I saw Sherlock crying for the first time.  
“I always thought he would be better if he didn’t care for people and in the process of me trying to help him, I feel I actually hurt him. The first time I saw him cry was when I was 11. He was so hurt emotionally because of bullying that the next morning I didn’t help him. I taught him to be independent and not care for others. I ruined my own brother and that is not what I had meant to do,” I explained leaning over my knees as tears threatened to spill.  
“You truly care about him,” I nodded in reply to John, looking over to the army doctor.  
“He’s my brother. No matter how cold I may seem, Doctor Watson. I will always care for my little brother,” I answered feeling slightly off. When I looked down again I saw my reflection in the broken glass at my feet seeing that I was a woman again.  
“He mightn’t trust you anymore, Mycroft. But I do. So does Mrs Hudson, Molly and Lestrade,”  
“Thank you, John.”


	11. Chapter 10

“I uh. John said that you uh, wanted to talk,” I looked up from my book shocked to see Sherlock standing uncomfortably in front of me.  
“I don’t remember saying that,” I marked the page before closing my book and setting it on the coffee table in front of me.  
“You need to tell him what you told me, Mycroft. It might help. Also, Hecate and I are going into the shops,” John explained before grabbing his jacket and leaving the apartment. Sherlock shifted uncomfortably on his feet before sitting in his chair near the fire place.  
“I’m, I’m sorry about what I did when you were a child. I never meant to hurt you in the way I did, Sherlock.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I looked down at my hands.  
“What do you mean, Mycroft?” I looked up to see Sherlock trying to hold back tears. Trying to keep up an emotionless face. I swallowed again glancing at my hands before standing up and moving to John’s seat.  
“All those times when Mummy and Daddy were out so you’d come to me for help but I would send you away to deal with problems on your own, telling you that I never cared about you or your problems, that there was no point in caring for people as they will never care for you. I saw you break each time and I am sorry that I did that to you, Sherlock,” I looked up at Sherlock and saw him biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to let the tears in his eyes fall.  
“I always cared about you, William. I wanted you to be safe from the pain of the world but instead I inflicted it onto you. I’m so sorry for what I did to you brother mine,” I could feel tears falling down my cheeks as the memories of childhood flooded my mind.  
“I always thought you hated me. You’d been there when I needed you until I started getting bullied. Then you just became so distant and cold,” Sherlock blinked back tears, trying to keep his composure and it made me feel worse.  
“Sherlock. I am sorry that I made you feel like that and I hope someday, perhaps, we could go back to before everything went to hell,” Sherlock nodded slightly but made no more moves.  
“You know. Mummy was right,”  
“How do you mean?” I inquired a little unsure.  
“You were named after her. You make a much better woman,” I laughed under my breath bringing a smile to Sherlock’s face.  
“Yeah okay,” I admitted with a smile. A pang of guilt at what I had done but happiness that he wasn’t looking at me like he was about to kill me.  
“Do you remember when we were testing brick dust from the neighbours place but we accidentally got some gunpowder?” I laughed at Sherlock’s question, remembering the outcome vividly.  
“I remember Mummy’s face very well,”  
“She looked like she was about to kill us,” Sherlock joked widening my smile. The two of us reminisced in memories of our childhood before I made the worst decision of my life.  
“Hello?” Sherlock answered his phone putting it on speaker as he did.  
“What? Nothing else?” Both Sherlock and I tensed when we heard Moriarty’s voice.  
“What do you want?” Sherlock asked. A slightly distorted laugh came through the phone’s speaker.  
“Well, I thought that you might want to talk to your girlfriend one last time. Of course, I think that her being your girlfriend is just a cover,” Sherlock tensed, glaring at the phone in his hand as a beeping tone came over the phone. Moriarty had hung up.  
“I have to find her,” Sherlock shot out of his seat heading for the door.  
“I don’t think he actually has Hecate, Sherlock. Call her first to find out,” I offered. Sherlock sighed and nodded, calling Hecate as he nodded.  
“What’s wrong Sherlock. You never call,” Hecate’s voice was surprised but there was no hint of fear or worry.  
“Is Moriarty near you?” I questioned making Sherlock glare at me.  
“Not that I know of. It’s not like I know everything. Give me a moment,” There was some taps and then silence. “No. He is not near me but he is near Baker Street,”  
“How do you know that?” Sherlock inquired looking a little stunned.  
“GPS tracking system in his phone. He’s about 5 minutes away,” Hecate informed us before the signal cut out on Sherlock’s phone. I glanced at Sherlock a little unsure before realising that if Moriarty was on the way here, had offered to let Sherlock call Hecate…  
“Moriarty isn’t going to kill Hecate, Sherlock. He’s coming here to kill you,” Sherlock shook his head and started pacing.  
“He does want me dead but he wouldn’t be the one to kill me. He would have someone else do that or try to get me to jump off of a roof again. There has to be something else,”  
“What if it’s not me he’s after?” Sherlock supplied looking at me worriedly.  
“He will always be after you but through others,” As soon as the words left my mouth there was the sound of glass shattering but then nothing but black.  
***  
“Sherlock,” The voice, although muffled, reminded me of Watson’s voice. I tried to open my eyes, ears ringing, and found my vision was blurry. My eyelids closed when I felt the heaviness dragging them closed. I opened my eyes again and this time to see Sherlock leaning over me a hand on my forehead and a hand tightly holding one of mine.  
“What happened?” My voice was hoarse and broke with the last syllable.  
“You were shot. While we were trying to work out what was going on, one of Moriarty’s men shot you. I’m sorry Mycroft,” Sherlock apologized blinking back tears.  
“It’s not your fault, Sherlock. You weren’t to know,” Sherlock nodded his head in hesitant agreement. I turned my head and saw Hecate sleeping I the chair on my right.  
“She was awake every time Sherlock and I slept,” John noted when I was confused, clearing up my confusion.  
“Lestrade’s trying to find the guy that shot you and he hasn’t slept since he arrived at Baker Street and saw the paramedics trying to resuscitate you,” Sherlock added sitting on the bed next to me. I felt a smile pulling at my lips and a warmth spreading over my face.  
“Someone has a crush,” I turned my head back to face Hecate to see her rubbing her eyes I a half seated half standing position.  
“I am not some school girl with an obsession,” I noted looking at her. She moved her hands away from her eyes and just stared at me with a knowing smirk bringing a smile to my face.  
“Do you want to do a take two on that comment?” She questioned making me laugh quietly.  
“I’m not. I’m a woman with a crush,” I attempted making her smirk.  
“Better. How are you feeling? You made Sherlock worried half to death,” I looked to Sherlock to see him mockingly glaring at Hecate who was poking her tongue at him.  
“I feel like I might have been shot at some point. Still trying to work out why though,” I joked, the general mood of the room lifting slightly.  
“I always thought you were just a cold hearted asshole but you’re actually a lot better than people describe you, Mycroft. You should be true to yourself instead of doing the whole uncaring façade,” John mentioned waving his hand around a bit in explanation.  
“Mycroft, not using a façade? What planet are you living on?” Hecate joked before giving me an awkward side hug.  
“Thank you for your apparent kindness,” I said glaring at her slightly. She gave me a dorky smile and I couldn’t help the laugh.  
I do like this. The joy and happiness that comes from the people around me. Even Sherlock is smiling and not because of a serial murder. I felt guilt at what had happened throughout my past. Hurting my brother, pushing everyone away. I want some semblance of normality now, I just want a normal life. I went to ask Sherlock to help me get out of here when a new face appeared in the doorway.  
“Gregory?”  
“I’m glad to see you awake. And alive,” Gregory joked and I could feel the smile pulling at my lips.  
“We’ll be back later,” Hecate offered grabbing John and Sherlock’s arms. Dragging them out of the hospital room leaving Gregory and I alone.  
“We couldn’t find the person who shot you,” Gregory noted, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.  
“It’s okay. Moriarty will have killed whoever it was since they failed to kill me,” I pointed out, tapping the bed. Gregory walked over and sat down on the edge and grabbing my hand.  
“Thank you so much, Gregory.”  
“You’re welcome,”


	12. Chapter 11

“Well at least there are some tears of joy,” Gregory and I snapped around to see a shorted man in a well-tailored black suit. Black hair slicked back and brown eyes delirious.  
“What are you doing here?” Gregory pulled a gun off of his person, aiming it at Moriarty’s head.  
“Ah such a welcome,” Moriarty shivered slightly as though pleased and joyful by this.  
“What do you want?” I inquired trying to sit up but finding that my chest was too sore.  
“You know, you shouldn’t try to sit up with punctured lungs. Tsk, tsk, tsk. I just wanted to meet the person Sherlock can’t seem to let out of his sight,” Moriarty sauntered towards me pushing Gregory’s gun away from his face.  
“Get out,” Moriarty’s smirk widened as he turned around to face Sherlock and Hecate who had just walked in.  
“So you’re Sherlock’s girlfriend. Not as pretty as I had thought you would be,” Moriarty snapped suddenly, throwing his hand past her face.  
“I still want to know. Who are you?” Moriarty turned back to and pointed towards me.  
“Leave her be,” Gregory tried again, pointing his gun back at Moriarty’s head.  
“I’ll give you just one reason to put the gun down. Oops,” I watched as Hecate. Sherlock and Gregory’s eyes widened. Gregory’s gun being placed carefully on the ground. All eyes on me. I looked down my body and saw a red dot on my chest, slowly moving up my body until I could no longer see the dot.  
“So, back to my still unanswered question. Who are you?” Moriarty was now pointing a gun at my head.  
“Not the person you will be expecting,” Moriarty turned to face Hecate, gun still aimed at me.  
“Oh? And what was I expecting?”  
“A woman who everyone liked and that Sherlock cares for,” Hecate offered giving me a quick glance. “That woman, is anything but. Believe me,”  
“And how would you know?” Moriarty moved the gun from my body to Hecate’s head.  
“I know a hell of a lot more about her situation than anyone else. So I swear to you, she is anything but what you’re expecting.” Hecate snapped. When Moriarty wen to grab her wrist she left the room with Moriarty close behind her.  
“Help keep her away from Moriarty, Greg.” Gregory looked shocked with Sherlock’s use of his name but quickly left the room, phone to his ear. “John, help me get Mycroft out of here. Back to his place,”  
“Why?” I questioned as John began pulling tubes out of my arms and ripping cords off of my body.  
“Moriarty will go looking for you at Baker Street and Hecate is keeping Moriarty occupied. For now,” Sherlock admitted before he and John wrapped an arm under my arms and basically dragged me out of the hospital and into the waiting black car at the hospital exit.  
“Where’s Hecate?” I felt myself tense when I heard Anthea.  
“Distracting Moriarty,” Sherlock answered helping me do up the seat belt as the car began speeding away.  
“You look shocked sir,” Anthea was looking directly at me and saying I was shocked was now an understatement.  
“How?” I began but couldn’t think of the words.  
“The other night when I entered your office. You were changing in front of me but you told me to leave so I kept my mouth shut and left as you ordered,” Anthea admitted before quickly doing something on her phone.  
“I’ve been doing my best to keep a clear schedule for you sir, but one of your superiors is on the very edge of coming looking for you,” Anthea noted. I nodded my head and realised I don’t want to go back to working so high up in the government but at the same time, I would for my brother and his friends.  
“Quickly,” Before I had even processed what was going on, Sherlock and John were carrying me to the front door of my home in Mayfair and a sense of melancholy took over my body. I was quickly on one of the vintage leather lounges in the entrance to my large and cold abode.  
“So what do you suggest now, brother mine?” I asked as Sherlock began pacing on the Egyptian rug. Sherlock shook his head and kept checking his phone, tangling his free hand in his unkempt hair.  
“Hecate and Lestrade were meant to have called by now,” Sherlock admitted now looking lost.  
“Moriarty keeps claiming that he killed Mycroft,” Gregory’s voice called out when the front door opened. “Could he have really killed him?”  
“Mycroft isn’t dead, Greg. I swear that man will never die sometimes,” Hecate sounded annoyed and I couldn’t help but scoff at her obvious irritation.  
“I haven’t had to see the guy in ages. Very unusual with all the time I’ve had to spend near Sherlock,” I looked over to Gregory as his voice became clear and much louder.  
“You make it sound like he is a pain,” I commented hoping to hear Gregory’s real opinion.  
“The guy is a wound up asshole. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he’s nice under the cold façade but he is an asshole,” Gregory admitted giving Sherlock a look of apology. Sherlock simply shrugged and left the room with John on his heels.  
“Just be careful saying things like that here. This is Mycroft’s house so I would be very surprised if there aren’t cameras in every room,” Hecate pointed out before giving me a knowing look when Gregory was looking away.  
“Yeah, maybe. Back in a moment,” Gregory stated before heading in the direction that Sherlock and John had gone.  
“I have to go and sort out a problem with Lady Smallwood. I’ll be back later,” Anthea claimed before leaving. I looked at Hecate as she sat down next to my feet that were lying across the couch.  
“Well. The only person who doesn’t know is now him,” Hecate pointed out and I sighed in response.  
“I know. But I don’t have to tell him… do I?” I inquired looking over to Hecate slightly worried.  
“What?! No, gods no. You don’t have to but we both know he will eventually work it out or Sherlock will accidentally tell him,” Hecate pointed out with a tilt of her head. I nodded in agreement but something made me feel kind of edgy.  
“Earlier, you said that you knew more about my situation than anyone else. What did you mean?”  
“It was a rouse to get Moriarty to follow me and leave you alone long enough for John and Sherlock to get you out of the hospital. Thankfully it worked,” I nodded my head, something not quite working out with Hecate’s words but I accepted what she had offered. I’d get the answer later.  
“Are you two done gossiping like schoolgirls?” Sherlock asked in a huff before dropping ungracefully into one of the leather arm chairs.  
“John sent you away from the kitchen didn’t he?” Hecate questioned in more of a statement than a question. Sherlock pouted and turned away from myself and Hecate making the two of us smirk slightly, trying not to laugh at his reaction.  
“Anyway, you can tell him or not. None of us are going to make you,” I nodded in thanks to Hecate but couldn’t help the slight chuckle when Sherlock’s bottom lip began quivering.  
“Sherlock, you’re making your brother laugh. Stop pouting,” Hecate commented making Sherlock’s bottom lip immediately go back into a normal thin lipped scowl.  
“How would you know that his brother is laughing?” Gregory asked as he walked back in.  
“Why wouldn’t he be laughing at Sherlock right now?” Hecate offered giving me a quick side glance. I nodded appreciatively when Gregory’s eyes closed and he laughed whole heartedly.  
“That is true. The mad bastard would be even if he’s halfway across the world,” Gregory was smiling so happily as he laughed and I couldn’t help but watch.  
“What’s so funny?” John asked as he walked back into the room with a tray of cups and some biscuits.  
“Do you think there is anywhere on Earth where Mycroft wouldn’t be laughing at Sherlock for pouting like a child?” Gregory questioned an amused smirk still on his lips.  
“Yes. If he was in here with us,” Hecate suggested making everyone tilt their heads in a form of agreement.  
“Excuse me,” Gregory commented, grabbing his ringing phone and leaving the room.  
“If only he knew,” John commented passing me a cup of hot, black tea.  
“No. If anyone tells him it has to be Mycroft. Everyone else is to keep their mouth shut. Agreed?” Hecate snapped, startling John and Sherlock. Both men quickly nodding their heads in agreement and going back to drinking and trying not to squirm under Hecate’s gaze. Something pulled at the back of my head, a nagging feeling that wouldn’t go away. I grabbed my phone off the table and opened a search engine.  
Ancient Greek mythology. Hecate.


	13. Chapter 12

“So why are we going back to Baker Street?” I questioned after getting changed into the clothes that Hecate had brought me.  
“Moriarty is preoccupied with something back in Ireland. It will take him a while before he can come back to London,” Sherlock announced as Gregory walked back into the room.  
“He has no diplomatic immunity in his own country and all of his money has been frozen. He can’t afford his normal lawyer, he can’t bribe the jury and he hasn’t got time to organise anything in Ireland before the police arrest him,” Gregory explained making Sherlock cringe slightly.  
“He has plenty of time to organise all sorts of things in Ireland. It’s all down to how long it takes the police to arrest him as to whether or not this plan works,” Sherlock stated while rolling his eyes in an annoyed fashion.  
“Sherlock. What about that case you were looking forward to?” Hecate asked grabbing my younger brother by his arm and dragging him out the front door of my home. I smirked slightly before looking over to Gregory who was inspecting the fine scotch on my mantel piece.  
“I have this odd want to steal this. I mean the man has it just sitting out,” Gregory complained pointing at the scotch but not touching it. I looked at the amber liquid and genuinely thought about giving what was there to Gregory but then I remembered it wouldn’t go down as well as I would hope.  
“Are you okay, Michelle?” I nodded half-heartedly before looking at the detective inspector.  
“What’s wrong?” Gregory wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his body and I felt myself relax into him.  
“There’s a secret that could ruin my happiest moments but I feel awful for keeping it a secret from someone,” I half explained not really thinking about my words. I looked to Gregory and saw he was about to say something but was cut off by Hecate.  
“Let’s get going, love birds. Sherlock and John have gone to deal with a case,” Gregory turned around and nodded. I quickly grabbed the bottle of scotch and walked with Gregory and Hecate out of my home and into the cool air.  
“Gregory,” I passed him the bottle of scotch and as he opened his mouth to say something I cut him off.  
“When I first sought Sherlock’s help I was staying here. I left the bottle behind after Mycroft gave it to me. It’s yours now,” I offered trying not to cringe when I said my own name.  
“Why did you leave it behind?” Gregory asked looking at the bottle slightly confused.  
“I was basically dragged out the door by Sherlock and John,” I explained before getting into the taxi after Hecate.  
“Why were you here in the first place?” Gregory continued after getting into the taxi.

“Because Mycroft was leaving to Germany for a few weeks so Sherlock figured it would be less annoying to have Michelle stay in Mycroft’s home,” Hecate explained quickly before putting her hand up in a way of silencing Gregory and I.  
I looked out the window and enjoyed the peace of the world as it passed. I enjoy not having the weight of everything on top of me, being able to talk to people without having their prejudice forced upon me. I wonder if this will wear off or not? If it doesn’t, I think I could live with it but I don’t know how I would cope with having to go back to being in charge of most of Britain.  
“Come on,” I blinked back to reality before following Gregory and Hecate out of the taxi. I followed after the two, stopping again just before the main door on the street.  
“What’s wrong?” I glanced up and saw Hecate looking at me worriedly.  
“I keep feeling like I’m being watched,” I looked down the street and saw that man again. The same one who had been there the other day. He had mousy brown hair and slight stubble on his chin but he turned away from me, looking out over the street in front of him. Disappearing as a person walked in my line of view.  
“Did you see that?” I questioned looking at Hecate who was glaring down to where the man was.  
“Nope. Don’t know what you’re expecting me to have seen,” Hecate pushed me behind her, closing the door behind me quickly.  
“Yes you do. Who was that? And why have they been following me?” I questioned pushing Hecate’s shoulders until she hit the door.  
“He’s not following you. He’s been watching you to make sure you don’t do anything stupid when you aren’t in Baker Street,” Hecate snapped forcing my hands away from her and pushing me back slightly.  
“Why? Why would you even care?” I spat at her feeling the anger inside me boiling.  
“Good to see that you haven’t changed a bit. You are still an arrogant asshole. Maybe Lestrade should know your secret. Let’s see what he really thinks of you then,” Hecate went to storm up the stairs but I grabbed her wrists and pulled her back down the stairs making her stumble slightly.  
“You’re just as bad as Ares. You’re arrogant, an asshole. Cold. Misogynistic. I hope you burn in front of Hades,” Hecate screamed at me and her words hit me in the face. She turned and slammed the front door, leaving Gregory and I in 221B alone.  
“What was that all about?” I spun around to see Gregory on the stairs looking a little startled. I shook my head feeling a little guilty at what I had said but things were starting to add up in my head. I think I know who Hecate really is.  
“It’s okay. She’s a bit touchy at the moment. Come on. Let’s go have a coffee next door and then we can rest up. Sound good?” I shook my head and just curled into Gregory when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders.  
“Why does this feel so nice?” I questioned Gregory as I felt myself calming down.  
“I don’t know,” Gregory admitted keeping me close to him. A few more minutes of being relaxed in each other’s embrace, we separated and headed up to 221B.  
“I’ll get you a cuppa from Speedy’s. I’ll be back soon,” Gregory took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders before kissing the top of my head and leaving the apartment. I listened to his retreating footsteps and then the door to the building.  
There was no sound in the apartment and it just felt cold without anyone nearby now. I have gotten so used to having Gregory or Sherlock or even Hecate. I just wanted someone nearby now so I don’t feel so alone and hated.  
“Maybe Hecate is right. I’m nothing but an asshole. A cold, lonely, asshole,” I complained to myself laying my head in my hands.  
“Michelle,” I looked up and blinked back some tears that were beginning to form.  
“Hey, don’t cry. You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay,” I nodded my head but not really agreeing. I don’t feel like everything will be okay. I leaned my head against Gregory’s shoulder and just cried. I don’t care anymore. I just want to be true to myself even if no one cares, I will be myself and not the cold hearted asshole that everyone thinks I am.  
“Hey. It’s okay. Calm down and you’ll feel a bit better,” Gregory rubbed circles on my back as I calmed down. The coffee long forgotten on the coffee table.  
“Thanks,” I looked up at Gregory to see him looking thankful but like there was something that he wanted to ask.  
“What is it?” I questioned. Gregory shook his head with a smile.  
“It’s alright. Another time,” Gregory stated trying to push it away.  
“Please tell me. It would make me feel a lot better,” Gregory smiled and shook his head.  
“Okay then,” Gregory helped me stand up for some unknown reason and grabbed my hands softly in his.  
“Would you, maybe, um. Like to uh, go on a uh date as my uh, girlfriend?” Gregory kept looking down at our entwined hands before he would do a quick glance up at me, almost scared.  
“Of course. I’d love to,” I responded all the guilt and self-hatred leaving my mind as I answered. He looked up at me startled before a smile began to pull at his lips.


	14. Chapter 13 ~ Epilogue

“Wait. Did you just say yes?” Gregory looked like a little kid in a sweet shop and I couldn’t help but smile. He made me feel like I was a better person than I really am and that made me feel good about myself. I felt like I owed him my life.  
“Of course I said yes. What else would I say?” I asked mockingly making the detective inspector smile broadly. He wrapped an arm around my waist before pulling me into his chest. I allowed myself to melt into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck and looking up at him.  
“Thank you,” was all Gregory said before pushing his lips against my own. His soft, warm lips felt amazing but I couldn’t focus on that as I started to feel a little ill. I thought about it for a moment and realised it felt exactly the same as the night before I changed into a woman. I pushed away the thought, slight fear that I might be changing back being buried deep in my mind as I tried to focus on Gregory.  
“Are you okay?” Gregory looked concerned and I nodded.  
“Yeah. I might just go and splash some water on my face though,” I excused myself and walked carefully into the bathroom of 221B Baker Street. As I entered the bathroom I closed the door and attempted to lock it but failed before falling to my knees. My body hurt all over and I felt like I was being cooked alive as that sickening feeling filled my stomach and dizziness took over my head.  
I could hear voices outside the bathroom getting louder and more aggressive towards each other as the pain finally began to simmer down. I looked to my hands and arms, no longer recognising them. Standing on wobbly legs, I looked into the mirror and saw a man staring back at me. I was myself again. I was me.  
“Back off Sherlock. I’ll go in,” Hecate basically screamed at my brother. I realised that she was meaning that she was going to come into the bathroom as the doorknob began to turn. I moved into the shower, pulling the curtain across so that Hecate couldn’t see me like this just as the door creaked open, then clicking as it closed shut again.  
“You can come out Mycroft,” Hecate said softly. “I know that you’re not female anymore.”  
“How?” I asked, the deeper voice sounding alien now.  
“I’ll explain another time. I have one of your suits here if you would like to get changed,” I thought about it before looking down at my body.  
“I think I will take you up on that offer,” I said softly. It looks weird seeing my old legs bare, with only a skirt covering the tops of my thighs.  
“I’ll leave the bathroom, they are on the bench. When you’re ready to come out you can,” I sighed heavily after Hecate left the bathroom before pulling the curtain back and getting changed quickly. Once dressed I looked into the mirror and didn’t particularly like the man staring back at me. For all the shock I got when I woke up as a woman, turning back was much worse.  
I tried to calm my nerves before exiting the bathroom. Still thankful that I don’t have to see anyone as soon as I exit. But Gregory, that was the problem. I have honestly fallen for the detective inspector but I doubt he will still love me now that I am like this.  
“What do you mean?” I heard Sherlock’s voice as I exited the bathroom and stood by the door for a moment.  
“It has been reversed,”  
“Wait, what’s been reversed? I am still confused,” Gregory’s voice proved his statement but I wondered how Hecate knew to begin with and how Gregory will take this.  
“3 weeks ago, Mycroft turned into a woman. Is that what has been reversed?” Sherlock asked nonchalantly and I could just imagine the horror filled expression on Gregory’s face.  
“Yes,” Hecate’s voice was quiet as she answered.  
“WAIT, WHAT?!” I walked closer to the conversation and saw a look of disbelief and what I believe is betrayal on Gregory’s face.  
“He was turned into a woman after having fired a pregnant employee who asked that he learn a lesson,” Hecate answered before quickly covering her mouth.  
“And how do you know that?” I asked no longer caring about anything else.  
“I just… you told me,” Hecate had lost all confidence in that moment as three sets of eyes closed in on her.  
“I never told anyone that,” I growled at her making her squeak a little out of fear.  
“You knew what was happening and you said nothing?” Sherlock snapped at Hecate with an anger I had never seen before.  
“Of course I knew. I couldn’t say though as it would have ruined the purpose,” Hecate pleaded.  
“Why was I made female?” I growled at the woman who visibly swallowed.  
“You had no respect for people and no understanding of how others felt. You acted purely out of self-gain. You needed to understand other people,” Hecate admits, the fear in her eyes growing as she looked up at me.  
“How and why?” Sherlock asked about ready to hurt her.  
“I’m Hecate the Goddess of Witchcraft. A woman prayed to me the night before I met Mycroft saying that she had an employer who had fired her because she was pregnant. She wanted him to understand that he was not in control of everything and that other people do matter. She wanted him to understand the pains of being a woman and I obliged,” Hecate answered. Her face scared but honest. No signs of a lie on her face at all.  
“You cannot be a goddess. Gods and Goddesses don’t exist,” Sherlock accused but I put a hand on his shoulder making him turn around to me.  
“She isn’t lying brother mine. So why am I back to being myself?” I inquired just as John walked back into the room.  
“You understood others. You learned to care, to not be selfish and you’re a better person for it. It will help you with your job I swear to that,” Hecate answered honestly. I nodded my head as my phone began ringing. I turned away and answered my phone hearing the voice of a superior yelling at me for not having been to work in the last 3 weeks.  
“I will be in tomorrow but until then do not call me,” I replied then hung up the phone as I turned back towards my brother and his friends.  
“Well that’s new,” Sherlock commented but smiling happily. I nodded to my younger brother before moving to Gregory’s side. He looked at me a little unsure but it quickly changed back into the calm and relaxed side of him that I had seen over the last three weeks as he offered me his hand.  
“So, you are a Greek goddess. That changed Mycroft into a woman, so he would learn respect?” Gregory asked as I accepted his hand and stood next to him as I had done so many times before. Hecate nodded hesitantly still weary of Sherlock who did not look at all pleased with her. I thought about this situation for a moment before I made a decision on how I felt.  
“Excuse me,” I walked silently past the group as a thought passed through my head. I walked down to the foyer outside of 221C and walked into the apartment having left the group upstairs.  
“Hecate. You said a woman prayed to you for me to understand others. You obliged. If I were to pray, would you help me too?” I asked the silence of her apartment.  
“Yes,” I snapped around to see Hecate standing behind me just inside the open apartment door.  
“I want to go back,” I stated looking at her. Not caring if anyone heard. I saw a small smile spread onto her face as she walked forwards.  
“Are you certain? It can’t be undone afterwards,” Hecate noted, a dark mist swirling around her feet as her clothes changed into a dark dress, her braided hair falling down her back in waves.  
“Yes,” I whispered. Hecate lay a hand on the side of my face, a thumb caressing my cheek with a small smile. When she pulled her hand away, I felt warm tear fall down my cheek.  
“Then be free Mycroft,” Hecate whispered as the mist settled and disappeared out of sight. Her appearance reverting back to what it was.  
“Wh… Thank you,” The masculine voice I had once thought was superior was gone and now for good. I smiled to Hecate in thanks when I saw the three men had come down the stairs and were standing in the doorway.  
“Why?” Sherlock questioned, confusion etched on his face.  
“I want to be like this. I want to be a woman,”


End file.
